The Witch's Cabin
by PipPipCheerio0205
Summary: A nice little short story I've decided to write in a few chapters. The Witch's Cabin is about Anna going to seek help for her sister's (Elsa) behavior, and to strengthen their sisterly bond. However, nothing is ever that easy.


Witchcraft. Like all things considered, "evil," Witchcraft was definitely on the top of the list. It had everything: summonings, spells, witches, creepy cloaks, etc. It's no wonder that the town of Arendelle had nothing to do with it. All except _one_ night. One fateful night. When the city was asleep and the air was crisp.

December twenty-sixth, the day after Christmas, a cloaked figure was seen sneaking its way through the empty streets. Hiding behind a barrel, it waited for two chatting guards – with their long swords at their sides, not even realizing they were being watched – to pass by. After what was two minutes for them to finally turn around and resume their patrol, the unknown figure moved with quick grace and fluidity from building to building. More guards? No problem. The figure maneuvered around them effortlessly.

What stopped the figure wasn't a guard. No. It was a family sitting by a fireplace, with two children and a dog behind a stained glass window. The figure sulked in the warmth of the fire, admiring the young boy who was playing with his little sister. "That's what I want for us, Elsa," the figure said to itself. The hood covering its face wasn't enough to hide a smile. It was a nice smile: warm as the fireplace, pink, and with dimples, having beautiful teeth. The figure left the family to themselves, but couldn't stop imagining the bright face of that little boy.

At an undisturbed stable, where nothing but horses remained – the stable boy had went home earlier than usual due to a nasty cold – the figure packed itself a few carrots from a barrel into a sack. Then, quietly, and efficiently, drew out a brown horse; its eyes were sleepy, but it didn't cause any scene that would cause the figure to be discovered. "Good boy," the figure whispered, feeding the horse a carrot, and then reached over a hand to pet its trimmed mane. Looking side-to-side for any more guards, and seeing none, the cloaked figure then saddled up the horse. After attaching the sack of carrots to the horse's rear, the stealthy bandit climbed up the stirrups, brought its slim left leg over the horse and made itself comfortable atop. Then, with a soft touch from the figure's heel, the horse went steadily forward.

"Hey! What are you doing!" Then came a shout within the darkness from the castle's watch-tower. "Guards! Intruder!"

_Oh no! _the figure thought. The shouts of noisy patrol guards consumed throughout all the streets. They were yelling:

"Where!"

"After him! He's stolen a royal horse!"

"I can't see! It's too dark!"

With a brisk jolt to the horse's side and grasping the reigns fiercely, the figure yelled, "Go! Go!" Only the sounds of a full gallop were left to be heard as the cloaked figure stormed its way through the city and streets. The guards were still shouting for the unknown horse thief to halt:

"Stop!"

"Halt!"

"Ow! I tripped on something!"

Like a blur in the blue night, the figure galloped through alleys, jumped over crates, and did so with near perfect precision. The figure glanced back, breathing heavily, but saw nothing in the way of a chase. "Phew! That was a close one," it said with joy, smiling again, and patting the horse's neck. "Good boy!" They were then free to ride off into the night without the pressure of someone following them.

It came to pass, through the blizzards of the North Mountain, where the stars blinked like shining emeralds, the figure halted the horse. "Let's see here. . ." it said, pulling out a piece of paper from its pocket. The paper read in black, cursive ink:

_To Princess Anna,_

_I've heard about the problems you've been having with your sister. Poor things. I really do feel bad about what happened to your parents. Please, I want you to come visit me in my cabin on the Northern Mountain just past the Needle Tree Forest. Oh, and by the way, don't worry about bringing, Elsa. I know that child needs some time alone, but I do have an offering that you won't refuse. It may make everything you've wished for into a reality._

_Sincerely Yours,_

_A Friend._

"Well," Anna said, folding the paper back into her pocket, blowing out cold air between her chattering teeth. "This is the place." She looked around hoping that her words would somehow make her assumption true, but all there was was falling snow. Her face was red, and already she could sense a cold coming on. Even Bobby-Jo, her horse, was shivering just as much as she was. The cabin was no where in sight, but Anna hadn't given up hope. She led Bobby-Jo a little bit further up the blistering cold mountain, but found nothing in the like of a wooden house, only deeper, and most definitely, colder snow.

"Where is it!" she found herself hollering, but only her echo brought about the realization that she actually was. Feeling defeated by the fact that there was nowhere left to go, she then said with an exhausted tone, falling limp on Bobby-Jo's brown mane and neck, "I'm lost! Oh boy! I can't believe it! How can I be lost!" She didn't move for the longest of minutes, and it could've been sworn that Bobby-Jo rolled his eyes. "I'm never going to see Elsa again! She's going to be so lonely – well, not that she wasn't lonely before, but still! it doesn't matter! All thanks to this stupid letter." She tore the letter from her pocket, growling at it and murmured a few menacing threats like: "I'm going to burn you and dance on your ashes." And right when she was about to do it, she heard a voice coming from behind a few rows of shrubs.

"Oh, there you are! Why, mercy me, come in come in! You're going to catch a cold if you stay out there for another second!"

Anna turned her head, and to her bewilderment – swearing that she had not seen a cabin there before – saw the face of an old woman standing at her porch with everything in the kind of a smile and pleasant greetings. It was strange – no doubt about that – but, Anna wasn't going to catch herself complaining. Already, she could feel her eyebrows chapping off her forehead. She jumped off Bobby-Jo, patting the horse's side, and said, "Be good out here okay? Mommy wuvs you." Bobby-Jo neighed, but not a "I wuvs you too!" neigh, but more of a, "Please, go away, and leave me be," kind of neigh. However, it was all the same to Anna, and she left Bobby-Jo with only a feeling of love and admiration for the horse.

Coming up the porch's steps, Anna noticed that the cabin wasn't at all big. There wasn't even a second floor. Yet, there was a very friendly feel about it: all nice and comfortable. Really homey. She enjoyed the company of meeting the old woman here, and not in some decaying house like she was expecting.

The cabin wasn't the only welcoming part of the old lady's hospitality. The old woman herself – who Anna learned (over a hot cup of tea) that her name was Willow – was a very caring and courteous hermit.

"Not that a hermit is a bad thing," Anna found herself apologizing after saying something rude. The two women were sitting beside a roasting kettle – in it Willow was cooking a batch of vegetable stew. The tender potatoes boiled like a dream to Anna, smelling all the scrumptious and soft, bite-sized bits of vegetables.

The cabin – just like Anna guessed – was very small. Though, size doesn't always mean better. In fact, she preferred a cozy home like this – with its creaking wooden walls that were devoured by shadows burning from the candles – over the cold barriers of the palace any day.

After saying what she had – about the old woman being a hermit – Anna felt greatly embarrassed, and tried to hide her blushing face with a smile. But Willow brought about the mood as bright as the fire with laughter, and got up from her rocking chair, still chuckling like every person does when they reach over fifty: croaky and straining (the veins were bulging from her aged neck) and said as she turned the stew with a wooden spoon. "Oh, dear. Don't worry yourself! I'm just glad to have some one visiting poor, old me. It's been years since I've seen another soul. And such a pretty one at that!"

Such kind words brought a red blush on Anna's face. "Well, no one should have to be alone all the time," she then said. After saying this, Anna remembered her older sister, feeling nothing except sympathy for Elsa. She hadn't seen her sister in years; and it was a struggle not to cry in the presence of Willow. Wiping at her teary eyes, she heard the old woman sit down beside her after stirring the soup.

Willow frowned, and asked, "What's wrong, dear?"

"It's nothing," Anna answered with a sniffle.

"Don't think you can fool me, love. I've been around too long to not know better than that. Now, tell me. What's wrong? Only talking will make you feel better. Do you still have that letter I gave you?"

Anna didn't reply, but after wiping away the tears tickling her nose, she brought out the folded letter. It was torn at the edges, but was still in one piece. Willow watched her as she handed it over. Taking the folded letter, the old woman said, "I wasn't lying y'know."

"What?" Anna asked, eyeing the woman between a teary gaze, but was replaced with confusion.

Willow stood up, saying not a word, and walked back over to the black kettle. She then tossed the paper into the stew and began to stir it, humming a strange tune. The tempo was fast, and she was humming in falsetto – high and screechy. She briskly stirred the stew with the same speed as her hum, and Anna watched, feeling that something was off about this woman. What was once a gentleness and vulnerability that hung about Willow, was now displaced – or it seemed to Anna – with queerness and secrecy.

"The stew's almost done, and it's gonna be a good batch. I hope you like peppers in yours–"

"I do," Anna said.

"–and if not, well, I guess I could fix you somethin' else." Willow ignored her guest completely, and Anna found it rather odd. What was going on? The once hospitable, caring Willow was replaced with an eccentric replica, who looked the same, but acted totally different.

Willow continued to stir the chunky soup, her pace growing faster and faster. Anna noticed that even the old woman's body was swaying with the motions. Still, Willow hummed in that same falsetto tone. Anna moved around uneasily in her rocking chair, a sweat of fear dripping down her cheek. She wiped it away, but more followed. "So, _uh_ when is the stew going to be done?" she asked, but her voice was as anxious as the hands gripping the side of her chair.

"In a minute, hon," was all the answers given, and Willow didn't even turn back to look at her. Her humming was even louder, and her stirring made it so that a few spurts of the stew flung out, sizzling into the crackling fireplace and created a nasty odor of something burning.

Anna didn't think she could handle another minute of this. Her entire body was vibrating with excitement, her hands were jittery, her face feeling itchy with nerves, and no matter how much she scratched, nothing helped. She finally had to ask: "Is there a bathroom here?"

Willow stopped stirring about as abruptly as the question was asked. And then a silence that sent Anna into shivers. The girl gulped. She didn't move. Her entire body was still, and the slightest movement felt like the longest leap. The candles flickered, and time seemed to slow. Then – causing Anna's heart to nearly stop – Willow turned around. The woman had in her possession two wooden bowls and spoons, smiling as warmly as she had when Anna first met her. The woman said: "Of course there is, hon. Right in the back over there. I installed it myself yesterday. It's no indoor plumbing, but it's the cleanest outhouse you'll find! Or, would it be an in-house, since it's inside!" Then, as if nothing about the situation was awkward, Willow laughed her same snorty laughter.

Anna felt immediate relief – as if the entire world was lifted from her shoulders, allowing her to move without resistance. She smiled, and laughed along with Willow. "That's fine! I can hold it. I'm starving. Is the food ready?"

"Sure is, but it's hot, be careful now," Willow said, and handed Anna her bowl and spoon. When Anna stood up to retrieve her bowl-full, Willow was already sitting down and enjoying her's, slurping the chunks from her spoon and smacking her moist, old lips.

It smelt great! Anna peered over to look at the substances in the kettle: carrots, potatoes, corn, green beans, tomatoes, and, sure enough, red peppers. Anna didn't mind peppers, but she figured it would be rude not to eat them. Happily grabbing the large kettle spoon, Anna poured herself a fine helping, making sure to grab extra peppers. She then took her seat beside Willow in her rocking chair, placing the warm bowl in her lap. Willow wasn't lying; it was _very _hot. Anna looked at the old woman who was eating the soup without any deference to the scorching liquid, and was amazed. "How can you eat that?"

Willow stopped before raising the entire bowl to her mouth to drink, and looked over at Anna. She asked: "What do you mean, dear?"

"I mean that stuff's really hot. Doesn't it burn you?"

"Not with this old tongue." Willow laughed, and Anna tried to – _Manners, Anna. Manners._ she reminded herself. Willow then went on to say: "After living in this place going on thirty years now, my insides are so cold it'll take eating a match to heat me up."

Anna's eyes began to water from the soup's steam. She blew on it, and then said, "So, about the letter you sent me–" [Willow perked up from her bowl with surprise.]

"Yes?" she asked.

"–what exactly did you mean when you said that you could help me and Elsa?"

"Simple," she answered, quite abruptly and detached from what Anna had previously noted about the woman. Willow ran over to her kitchen table and placed the empty bowl on top it, and came back to Anna with a pen and some paper. "Don't eat the soup just yet, dear," she instructed. Anna listened and placed the untouched soup on the floor beside the rocking chair. Willow then handed her the pen and paper.

"What's this for?" Anna asked.

"I'm going to let you in on a little secret of mine," said Willow. For some reason her face darkened. Anna thought that maybe this _secret_ of hers might not be something she wanted to hear.

Anna gulped, and already her face began heating up like it had before. "What secret?"

"I want you to promise me that you won't say a word to anyone."

"I promise."


End file.
